


For Destruction (Ice Is Also Great and Would Suffice)

by jamestiqueeriuskirk



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: (due to moral reservations), Asphyxiation, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Psychrophilia, Purple Prose, Temperature Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:57:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5254370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamestiqueeriuskirk/pseuds/jamestiqueeriuskirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His breath was the last thing the ice took from him, after his limbs had emancipated themselves from his weakening brain’s commands and the cooling wreckage had hissed off the last of its steam, but it was the first thing Loki stole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Destruction (Ice Is Also Great and Would Suffice)

**Author's Note:**

> a "writing exercise"

His breath was the last thing the ice took from him, after his limbs had emancipated themselves from his weakening brain’s commands and the cooling wreckage had hissed off the last of its steam, just soon enough for panic and a tightness of the chest to drive everything, even Peggy, from his mind, but it was the first thing Loki stole, sucking all the warmth from Steve’s chest into his own cruel and frigid mouth, leaving Steve nothing but a swimming head and an incapacitated body (and _where did it go_ , Steve might have wondered, had his blood flow been quick enough to combat the frost settling into his extremities, respond to Loki’s ministrations, and keep his thoughts afloat, all at once. It certainly did nothing to improve Loki’s own temperature- his hands, so delicate and deceptively loving, mocking, reminded Steve more of his old, Brooklyn apartment in the middle of February, when he and Bucky had to choose between food and heat, than of the warmth and contact of their adolescent fumbling).

Even his heightened stamina lent him no significant advantage in such a fight- it wasn’t quite asphyxiation, but like the breath being knocked clean out of you by the first wind on a particularly cold morning, and it made his lungs ache and his head reel, long before the first of the needle-sharp pin-pricks about his hands and feet began to burn cold- and Steve realized, now, that Thor held back when they sparred, for even a fraction of Loki’s strength was enough to pin him in place several times over, caged between his own sheets, unwelcoming as they had become, and the chill body above until the fight had drained from his limbs, enough to bring him to his knees.

Each time around that Loki let himself into Steve’s apartment, frosting the glass of his windows and making himself at home, uninvited, in Steve’s bed, in Steve’s mind, his body, his very heart, it was, somehow, worse. Perhaps it was the anticipation, the dread few seconds Loki allowed him in between each glacial kiss to his torso that had Steve jumping out of his skin, eyes screwed shut against the madman sprawled out atop his chest. Perhaps it was how pathetically the token struggle he tried his damnedest to muster up fell away (though how could his performance withstand the god of lies when it hadn’t any conviction behind it? Never kid a kidder, he supposed).

“Oh, Captain.” Loki crooned, as Steve writhed beneath him, muscles sore already, each shuddering breath a labor, unsure if the sweetness of Loki’s voice would prove illusory or not- the man could be whimsical, and he could be loving, but moments such as those were tempered by their undercurrent of genuine sadism, an emotional cruelty the likes of which Steve had hoped never to encounter, much less welcome into his bed. “You struggle so beautifully.”

He tightened his grip, only incrementally, but Steve’s hypersensitivity worked in tandem with Loki’s godly strength, and Steve knew his neck would feel the difference tomorrow.

“One could almost believe you mean it.”


End file.
